


Kjærligheten til to guder

by endo



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endo/pseuds/endo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki didn’t notice his thoughts leaving him. Thor’s eyes rushed into his, sweeping through his mind like fire on the wind. He burned and scalded until Loki became nothing but a basin for Thor to bleed into—he was all of Thor and none of himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kjærligheten til to guder

**Author's Note:**

> AU novelization of the first Thor film's infamous deleted scene—dialogue is lifted directly from Thor and Loki's conversation

“Nervous, brother?” Loki teased, initiating their easy banter. He was surprised to find his guise of brotherly affection less agonizing than usual. Of course, Loki’s good humor could likely be attributed to his plans for the Casket—which were soon coming into fruition, as he giddily recalled—but regardless, all seemed to be going well.

His brother chortled, mirth punctuating his words. “Have you ever known me to be nervous?”

Loki could name a few dozen moments that Sif had set Thor’s knees knocking, but he didn’t care to talk about her now. Instead, he settled on something that he knew Thor wouldn’t admit to.

“There was the time in Nornheim.”

As expected, Thor dismissed him. “That was not nerves, brother—that was the rage of battle.” His smiling eyes bid Loki to see truth.

Bastard.

“Ah, I see.” He mocked the oaf under his breath. Of course, Loki’s jabs fell upon unhearing ears. 

“How else can I have fought my way through a hundred warriors and pulled us out alive?”

Loki sputtered. Though he was more versed in mischief than Thor, his brother did have a talent for spinning tales to fit his ego. 

“As I recall, I was the one who veiled us in smoke to ease our escape.”

Thor dared laugh again, challenging Loki with a sly look. “Yes. Some do battle—others just do tricks.”

Only the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed the outrage that stirred in Loki’s gut. The insult was familiar, but never failed to darken his mood. Thor would pay with one of his mere “tricks” later.

Graciously, the uncomfortable quiet birthed by Thor’s idiocy had little chance to linger, as one of their servants soon approached, offering them a chalice of wine. Though he met Thor's eyes with ease, the man looked close to fainting when his gaze chanced Loki's. 

It was discovered early in his youth that Loki lacked the traits expected in one of Odin's heirs. He shared none of his brother's love for combat, instead favoring the solitude that studying texts allowed him. As years of his life of taking refuge in the shadows passed, the darkness he surrounded himself in seeped into the crevices of his mind, filling it with lies. He began to believe that Asgard saw him as an unfortunate addendum—the thorns to Thor's sweetly blossoming rosebud. His position required that formalities be retained, but none revered him in the way they did his brother. On his birthdays, they lavished Thor with grand ceremonies and extravagant gifts, while Loki’s parties were stiff and devoid of gaiety, his presents carrying what he perceived as hidden slights against his character. He thought even his father to dismiss him, to openly favor his brother as his successor. This illusion of antipathy Loki created was a poison that stole away in his heart, and corrupted it in the silent hours of the night.

Then, one day, lost and grasping for anything to console himself, he stumbled upon _power_. A tight curl of energy slept inside him—one that thundered in his soul and begged for release. When he called out to it, beckoning it to the surface, it obeyed him without hesitation. There was no question to his actions, no one whose word was held higher than his own. 

Wholly enraptured by this revelation, Loki devoted himself to researching and perfecting the art of magic. Little time passed before Loki had progressed beyond that of his father’s personal sorcerers, and when he displayed an aptitude for maleficium, paranoia of wicked intentions circulated amongst the Asgardians. Culled from amongst the theories was that Loki held malice toward his father, and that he was preparing to eliminate Odin to take his place on the throne. 

Rather than dispel the rumors, Loki bolstered them at every given chance. He spun curses of chaos, drunk on the newfound respect he had cultivated in his people. For no longer was Loki a hapless outcast doomed to carry his suffering alone. No, he was Loki Odinson, the god of mischief, and one day he would be _king_.

So it was opportunity and a quick study of the man that gave him reason enough to warrant the spell.

Loki relished in the shriek, the clattering of the tray as it fell to the floor. He couldn’t help but cackle as his devilish creations slithered out of the grail and into his sight. 

“Loki—now that was just a waste of good wine.” Though his words chastised, Thor’s tone was a love letter.

“Oh, it was just a bit of fun. Right, my friend?” A flick of Loki’s hand and the serpents were gone—the servant took little time to follow them. Loki caught Thor’s eye and they shared an appreciative snigger.

An image of a Jotun pierced through Loki’s clouded thoughts, and he stiffened. What merit was there in indulging this companionship now? To deepen the betrayal his brother would feel when he discovered Loki’s true nature? No, that was a lie, though Loki didn’t see it as such. It was simple familiarity that commandeered his actions.

To have this one weakness, even as he was not entirely aware of it—a bond of love between he and his brother—wore at his mind. No matter how deeply he hurt Thor, no matter how many times he dreamed of the particulars of his death, Loki’s attempts to sever their connection continued to fail. Because of all the fools who could have drawn close to him, of course it was Thor who chose to make Loki his conquest. The pest always buzzed about him, trying to steal his attention away from his so-called “mundane” pursuits.

Reminded of himself, Loki sunk back into silence. He didn’t need to dwell on this now—not when he knew a day would come when he would lose it.

The time for their entrance to the throne room neared, and Thor was presented with his helmet. He admired it as he turned it about, while Loki studied it from afar.

“Nice feathers.” Loki quipped, particularly amused by its wings.

His brother turned to him as he chuckled. “You don’t really want to start this again, do you, cow?”

Cow? Had Thor been sitting on that one for a while now? “I was being sincere.”

Thor scoffed. “You are incapable of sincerity.”

“Am I?” 

His brother smiled at him. “Yes.”

What Loki intended to reply with was a callous rebuttal—something sharp enough to escape Thor’s wit. He would choose his phrasing with precision, fueling every letter with some past grudge or bitterness he held against his brother. He wanted, he _needed_ to feel that sour anger bubbling within him again. But a lapse in control called his heart to speak before his mind.

“I’ve looked forward to this day as long as you have. You’re my brother, and my friend. Sometimes I’m envious. But never doubt that I love you.”

Thor closed the distance between them to capture Loki’s cheek in his palm. His leathery fingers stroked Loki's skin, gratitude in his touch. “Thank you.”

Loki didn’t notice his thoughts leaving him. Thor’s eyes rushed into his, sweeping through his mind like fire on the wind. He burned and scalded until Loki became nothing but a basin for Thor to bleed into—he was all of Thor and none of himself.

It was in this state that an impulse hit him. It bludgeoned him so suddenly that the words came tumbling out without a moment to consider them.

“Now give us a kiss.”

Rare was it that Loki thought twice about a decision. But now, as if a dam had been broken, a cascade of emotions washed over him. They bit and tore at his attention, revealing to him feelings that he had smothered into submission for as long as he could remember. Loki was quickly losing sight of the ground that he had held himself steady on for so many years.

His internal chaos was so great that he missed Thor's whisper, and nothing in Asgard, Midgard, and all of Yggdrasil could have prepared him for the gentle pressure that fell upon his lips.

Odin. Oh, damn Odin.

He was in love with Thor.

**Author's Note:**

> it's late and i should have checked this a couple more times but it's done so i'm cool with it
> 
> hey you're looking lovely tonight what are you doing later


End file.
